Burned
by One Small Monkey
Summary: While out on patrol, Raphael meets a 10-year-old girl. Their brief encounters result in some rather painful lessons being learned.
1. First

LaShawn quietly pushed open the window and slipped out onto the fire escape. She slid back against the brick wall, cradled her knees in her arms, and began to cry. LaShawn didn't come out here very often - just when she needed to be really alone. Even though she was outside, in the middle of New York, it seemed like nobody could see her there in the alley. She felt she could cry all she wanted, and no one would bother her. As it turns out, she was wrong.

"Hey - you OK?"

LaShawn jerked her head up and looked around. She wasn't sure where the voice came from, but she was pretty sure it was directed at her.

"You OK?" it asked again.

Pretty sure the voice came from below, LaShawn looked down through the grating of the fire escape. "Who's that?" she asked, quietly.

"Nobody," it responded. "Just seeing if you're OK."

LaShawn put her head back down on her arms. "What do you care?" she muttered.

There was a pause, then the voice said, "So I guess you're fine."

"I'm just...ugly, OK?" LaShawn started crying again.

A small laugh came up from below. "Ugly? You don't know what ugly is."

Even though LaShawn didn't really feel ugly, she was indignant at that response. "Do so."

"You're not ugly."

LaShawn stopped crying and glanced down at her clothes. She was wearing an oversize pink shirt and striped sweat pants. She snorted. "You sayin' I'm pretty?"

"Well, I don't know about pretty. But you sure ain't ugly."

"How do you know?"

"Trust me - I know ugly."

Despite herself, LaShawn found herself interested. "How do you know?"

"'cause _I'm_ ugly."

Again, LaShawn lifted her head and peered down through the grating. "I can't see you."

"And that's a good thing, 'cause I'm ugly." LaShawn smiled a bit at that.

"What's your name?" the voice asked.

"What's yours?" LaShawn demanded.

"Raphael. But you can call me Raph if you want."

"Raph?" she repeated.

"Yeah, Ugly name for an ugly guy."

LaShawn smiled a bit. She liked this guy. He sort of made fun of himself, but he seemed to be...comfortable with it. "LaShawn."

"LaShawn," repeated Raphael.

"Yeah - dumb, huh?"

"Well, it's better'n Raphael. Look, I gotta motor. You take care of yourself, LaShawn, OK?"

LaShawn answered, "Yeah, OK," without really thinking. She looked down, hoping to catch a glimpse of Raphael as he walked off. She heard a slight rustling sound, but didn't see anything.

After about a minute of waiting, she said, "Raph?" No one answered. LaShawn breathed a heavy sigh, wiped her face, and crawled back in through the window, shutting it behind her.

* * *

For the next several nights, LaShawn crawled back out onto the fire escape for a bit. She wasn't really sure why - there was no reason for this Raph guy to return - but she found him interesting, and wanted to talk to him again. And even though she didn't see him, it still helped take her mind off of things.

It had almost been a week since she'd heard him. LaShawn started asking herself if she was being silly, when she heard the voice again.

"LaShawn?" it said, again from below.

Even though she had been hoping to hear from him again, his voice still took her by surprise. She leapt up slightly, then peered down through the catwalk. "Raph?"

"Hey, you remembered my name - cool."

She couldn't spot him, but she answered him anyway. "Yeah, I was wonderin' if you were...y'know, gonna come back."

"Well, I'm only up this way about once a week. How you doin'? Everything OK?"

LaShawn frowned. She had been hoping to talk to this guy to help take her mind off things, not to discuss them. "I guess," she said gloomily.

"You don't sound OK," Raph pointed out. "You sure?"

"Doesn't matter," she said, pouting.

"You don't still think you're ugly, do ya?"

"Everyone thinks I am."

"I don't. And I'm somebody," pointed out Raphael. "Who says you're ugly?"

LaShawn shrugged and mumbled, "Some kids at school."

"Well, they don't know ugly. I know ugly."

"Yeah, right."

"No, really. Look down behind you."

LaShawn, curious, peeked back over the railing. Suddenly she saw a green face peeking up at her, smiling. LaShawn look horrified, and the face grinned larger.

"Now who's ugly?" it demanded.

LaShawn forced herself to look away. "I guess...you," she said quietly.

She heard his voice coming back up from below. "Told you." Raphael sighed and tried to think of some wisdom from Splinter he could pass along. "Look, LaShawn, it don't matter what these kids are sayin'. You shouldn't listen to 'em anyway. Well, you do need to listen, but not to the words. You gotta find what's behind 'em." He paused and thought for a second. "Look, you're better'n some of other kids at stuff, right?"

"No," she said glumly.

"C'mon. You're probably better at...reading than some kids, and...you can run faster than some of 'em, and stuff."

"Maybe. So?"

"So?" repeated Raphael. "Do you go around telling all them you're better'n they are? Do you tell the slow ones 'I can run faster'n you'?"

"No..."

"See? That's because you don't hafta tell them. So the kids that're sayin' you're ugly...even if they _think_ you're ugly, why you think they're telling ya that? Not because they think you're ugly..."

LaShawn set her teeth, and put her head in her hands. "Cause they're mean."

"You got it. You see? You're not ugly - they're just bein' mean. The only way they can make themselves feel good about themselves is by making you feel horrible about you."

"How you know?" LaShawn asked suspiciously.

Raphael paused before admitting, "Well, I'm kinda more familiar with this topic than I wanna be. But listen. Next time, they're makin' fun of ya, you just think of two things, OK? First, think of my face, and remember that these kids don't know what ugliness is. And second..." Suddenly, Raphael broke off.

LaShawn waited for a second, then asked, "What's second?"

"Sh!" The hush came so loud, and so quickly, that she started wondering what she had done wrong. But almost immediately afterward, she heard footsteps in the alleyway. She looked down the way, and saw a man running from the far side, carrying something under his arm. She heard some indistinct shouts from far away as well. Just as the man ran below her, she saw Raphael drop off the fire escape onto his back. He wrestled with the man for a bit, then stood up, holding a purse in his hand. Raphael looked back up at LaShawn and smiled. "Looks like I got something to return. I'll see you later, K?"

LaShawn watched as he ran back up the alley, at an utter loss for words. She looked down at the man, who was barely moving, and holding his head. He must have stolen some lady's purse...and Raphael stopped him! LaShawn smiled. This guy might be ugly, but he's cool. She crawled back into her bedroom and shut the window behind her.


	2. Second

Raphael hummed some hard rock tune (he wasn't even sure which one) as he made his way down the alley. It had been both a quiet and successful night. Only a couple things to break up, and those were all early on. Raphael was enjoying the quiet and pleasant night - something he hadn't done in some time. He smiled a bit as he came to the alley where LaShawn lived. May as well see how she's doing, he thought. He made his way down until he was underneath the fire escape. As usual, she was there, but she seemed a bit...different. She was reading a book, for one thing - the other two times, she'd just been sitting there looking miserable. Raphael slowly and quietly began climbing up the outside of the fire escape, finally pulling his head up over the catwalk where she sat, directly opposite from her.

"Is this seat taken?" said Raphael, grinning.

LaShawn dropped her book in alarm, but then smiled. "Hi, Raph."

"Hey, LaShawn." Raphael pulled himself up over the railing, and sat down across from her. "You're looking better."

"Yeah, kinda. I just...did what you said, y'know? When they started makin' fun of me?"

"Cool - they leave you alone now?"

LaShawn shrugged. "Not really. But they don't bug me as much as they usedta. I don't know what to say when they start in..."

"Probably nothing."

"Nothing?"

"Yeah," said Raphael, nodding. "Just shake your head, smile and don't say anything. That way it doesn't look like you're paying any attention to 'em."

"Huh." LaShawn thought that over. "What was the second thing?"

"What second thing?"

"Last week, you said you wanted me to remember two things when they got on my case. First one was that you were uglier'n me."

"Oh, right."

"But you ran off before you told me what the second one was."

Raphael scrunched his face up. "You know what? I don't remember what the second one was." His face relaxed into a smile. "But I guess it doesn't matter. It looks like you didn't need it."

"Yeah, I guess not." LaShawn suddenly got quiet, and sort of stared at Raphael. Seeing her stare, Raphael grinned a bit.

"Guess I should tell you. I'm a mutant."

"A what?"

"Mutant. I got some turtle DNA in me."

"Oh."

Raphael shrugged. "Just so you know why I'm ugly."

LaShawn smiled a bit. "Nah, you're not ugly. You're just...different."

Smiling, Raphael said, "Different's just another word for ugly."

"But it's nicer."

"Yeah, it is. Thanks." Raphael got to his feet. "I better scoot. My family's waitin'. Glad you're feelin' better, LaShawn." He walked over and held out his fist. LaShawn tentatively reached over and touched her fist to his. "See ya."

"Yeah, see ya, Raph."

Raphael gave her one last grin, then hopped over the railing and began the descent back to the alley below. Once he hit the pavement, he made his way over to the manhole, sticking close to the wall. While he reached for his pipes to pull back the cover, he thought about LaShawn. He hadn't told anyone about her yet. Part of it was because there wasn't a lot to tell - he met this girl, stopped her from crying, and that's about it. Another part was that he knew he'd get grief from his brothers - Michelangelo, especially - for chatting with a human. He had poked fun at Mikey for doing it in the past, and he knew it'd be payback time once they found out. Well, maybe I'll tell them tonight. We'll see. He climbed into the manhole and pulled the cover back in place over his head.

* * *

Raphael dared to sneak a peek at the clock. Almost five o'clock - good. For some reason, he was having a heck of a time getting his brain in gear today. The more he tried to concentrate on his math, the less he seemed to understand. His best bet was probably to just bag it for the rest of the day, and try again tomorrow. Hopefully, his brain would me more up to speed then.

Everyone looked up when the modest chirping of the cell phone broke the silence. Splinter got to his feet and walked into the kitchen to answer it. "Hello?" he said, as always sounding rather uncertain when answering the phone.

"Splinter? It's April."

"Good afternoon, Ms O'Neil. I trust you are well?"

"Not too bad, thanks. Look, I was wondering if you guys could watch the 5 o'clock news this afternoon?"

Splinter glanced at the clock. "I believe we would be able to, Ms O'Neil. Is there a story of yours you wish us to see?"

"Not mine. At least, not yet - I'm trying to take it over. It'll probably be the third story in - just want to know if you know anything about it."

Splinter was a little confused by the lack of information, but he took it in stride. "The third story. All right, we will watch and let you know."

"Great - thanks. Say hi to the guys for me."

"I shall. Goodbye, Ms O'Neil." Splinter hung up the phone and replaced it in the charging stand. Walking back to the study room, he repeated what April had told him to the turtles. They seemed as confused as he was.

"What the heck would we know about anything?" asked Michelangelo.

"Maybe it's about the Foot," suggested Leonardo.

"Well, whatever it is, we better get the TV set up. You know how hard it is to get Channel Six down here. Raph, you wanna help me out with the antenna?"

"Got it." They hurried back out into the living room as the other two turtles put their study materials away.

Raphael leapt up, pulling himself up into the pipes above the living room. Donatello turned the TV on and flipped the dial to channel six. Once the TV warmed up a bit, he frowned at the snowy picture. "Pretty lousy," he said. Raphael grabbed the wire that led from the TV up to the roof, and wrapped it once around a different pipe. "Better," announced Donatello, "but still pretty tough to see." Raphael pulled the wire tighter, then stretched it over to a nail that jutted out of the wooden beam, wrapping it around it twice. "No picture at all now," Donatello said. Raphael muttered under his breath as he pulled the wire back off the nail, and instead stretched it to another pipe above. "Hey, that's pretty good," said Donatello. "Can you keep it there?"

"No problem," said Raphael, wrapping it around the pipe once, then tying it in a knot. "How's that?"

"Looks OK. Come on down."

Raphael dropped to the floor as his other two brothers and Splinter entered the room. Michelangelo grinned.

"Dudes, we have GOT to get cable."

"No," said Leonardo, shaking his head. "Then we'd spend all day watching TV."

"Shh, it's starting," said Michelangelo, as he saw the New York skyline come into view on the screen.

Splinter took his place in his battered armchair, and the turtles sat on the old sofa. As they watched, they kept mulling over what they might see that they might have some insight on. The first two stories certainly weren't right. They knew nothing about a fire in Queens, or the looming subway strike.

The news anchor looked up at the screen and began the next story. "Police are blaming gang crossfire for the bullet that claimed the life of a ten-year-old girl." The screen cut to a picture of the girl, smiling at her last birthday. "LaShawn Jackson was shot and killed last night on the fire escape outside her home."

Raphael felt himself go cold all over as he stared at the picture. That was LaShawn, all right. And now she was dead. Raphael couldn't speak, couldn't move, couldn't even react.

The anchor went on. "So far, no witnesses have come forward, but the girl's mother, Wanda Jackson, says she's heard from a few neighbors that mutants had been spotted in the area."

The TV then showed a woman, her face wracked with grief. "Why did those freaks have to take my baby?" she said, crying. "Why couldn't they just leave us alone?"

Once more, the image flipped back to the news anchor. "Police are investigating the case, but have no suspects as of yet." He flipped a page, and then started a new story. "The protests continued today over at..."

Michelangelo leapt up and turned off the TV. Turning back to the couch, he said, "Mutants shooting kids? What do they..." He stopped as he spied Raphael. "Raph?"

Raphael sat on the edge of the couch, fists balled, teeth clenched, shaking his head. "No," he kept murmuring. "No."

Splinter got up, glanced at Raphael, then turned to the others. "Kids," he said quietly, and they all knew what that meant - he wanted to be alone with Raphael. They quickly got up and headed back to the study room. Splinter sat down next to him and put his hand on Raphael's knee. Raphael looked up, and Splinter saw the pain there. It was clear that Raphael wanted to cry, but was fighting it extremely hard. His lip trembled, and his breaths came in pants. "Can you talk about it, my son?" asked Splinter gently.

Raphael closed his eyes, swallowed and nodded. He opened his eyes, and looked deep into the eyes of Master Splinter. He drew a little strength from there, and began to feel a bit calmer. "Uh..." he began. "I know that girl."

"Yes," said Splinter, encouraging.

Raphael took another deep breath and tried to keep his voice level. "I, uh, met her one night, 'bout a month ago or somethin'. She was cryin', y'know, an' I just wanted...just wanted to make sure everything was OK."

Splinter was somewhat surprised by this admission. He had learned to accept that, at times, his sons would strike up conversations with some of the people they met on their rounds. However, this was something he only expected of Michelangelo and Donatello, not Raphael. In fact, Raphael had rarely shown much compassion at all for any human. Splinter said nothing, though, but simply nodded, and Raphael went on.

"She was, uh, gettin' hassled at school. Some kids were pickin' on her, callin' her ugly an' stuff. I just told her not to worry 'bout it, y'know - she'd be OK."

"That was most kind of you."

"Yeah, well...anyway, I saw her...a couple more times. Last time, she seemed OK - like she was over it, y'know?" Raphael set his teeth and shook his head. "But now it don't matter, does it? She's dead."

Splinter leaned forward and pulled Raphael to his chest, something he hadn't done with him in many years. Raphael didn't fight it, clutching his sensei tight, letting the tears fall from his eyes onto Splinter's kimono - tears that he had held back in the presence of his brothers. "Why?" he demanded quietly. "Why did she have to die?"

Knowing there was no answer, Splinter didn't try to formulate one. "I am sorry, my son." He held Raphael for a minute until the crying subsided, and Raphael made a move to sit back up.

Wiping his face, Raphael said, "She's just a kid. It ain't fair."

Gently, Splinter said, "I know, my son. It is very difficult."

Raphael spread his arms wide. "And now everyone thinks I'm the one that killed her, too!"

"That is not quite accurate, my son. The news simply said that mutants were seen in the area."

"Which means me," growled Raphael.

"Were you seen?"

Raphael paused. "I...I don't know. I know the first two times, I kept kinda hidden, but I was on the fire escape with her this last time."

"When was that?"

"Monday."

"Hm. So it is possible that someone saw you with her on that day."

"Well, maybe, but I was being nice to her, sensei! Why are they thinking I killed her?"

Splinter sighed. "You know that humans mistrust that which they do not understand."

Raphael pounded his fist on his knee. "I gotta go talk to her." He made a move to stand up, but Splinter put his hand on his knee.

"To...to who?"

"To that woman. LaShawn's mother. Let her know I didn't do it."

Splinter sat up straighter and looked at Raphael. "I am not sure that is wise, my son."

"What? You want her to think I killed her kid?"

Shaking his head, Splinter said, "That is not what I meant. However, if you are indeed currently a suspect, going to see her would not be prudent."

"You think they'll...arrest me?"

"It is possible. In fact, it would be prudent to cease your nightly patrols until this is settled."

Raphael's eyes got wide. "You're gonna make me stay home while everyone else goes out?"

"No, my son. I believe all of you should stay home for the time being. Remember, most humans cannot tell you apart. It would be just as dangerous for any of the others as it would be for you."

Jumping to his feet, Raphael walked to the opposite side of the room and slammed his fists against the bricks. Spinning back towards Splinter, he said, "This is such bull. I make friends with a girl, some punk kid kills her, and so now all of us gotta stay home?"

"That is what it amounts to. And it is indeed not fair. Therefore, we should try to rectify the situation as quickly as possible. Remember, April asked us to watch this newscast to see what we knew of the situation. So call April, tell her what you know, and see what she recommends."

Raphael swallowed hard, then nodded. "Yeah, OK." Raphael stood up and made a move towards the door, but suddenly stopped and turned back to Splinter. He stood and bowed formally to his sensei. "Thank you. You know, for...everything."

Splinter merely bowed in response, then watched Raphael walk towards the phone, lost in thought.


	3. Third

Raphael stared out the window of April's car, tapping his fingers on his knee. In his mind, he again went over the things he wanted to say to LaShawn's mother. Just the thought that someone might think that he would shoot a young kid was infuriating to him. He had to put this thing to rest. He just had to.

From time to time, Raphael stopped his internal rehearsal to glance up at the front passenger seat, where Splinter was sitting. Just before they left, Raphael heard Splinter tell April, "His reasons may be wrong, but that does not mean the trip will not be worthwhile." What did that mean? No matter how many times he tried to concentrate on what he was going to say, he kept thinking back to those words.

Raphael finally stopped obsessing as April parked the car across from the apartment complex. Raphael looked up at it, frowning. It looked wrong to him somehow. Finally, as he got out of the car, it hit him. He was used to seeing the backs of buildings. And most of those looked the same - brick and stone, unattractive windows, ugly doorframes. Generally, the fronts of buildings were a lot nicer, but this one looked about the same in the front as it did in back. Apparently, LaShawn's family wasn't much better off than his was.

April led them across the street. It was getting late, so neither Splinter nor Raphael worried too much about being spotted. April buzzed the intercom and waited.

"Yes?" an indistinct voice said.

"Mrs Jackson? It's April O'Neil."

There was a slight pause, and then the voice said, "OK". A loud buzzing pierced the air, and April grabbed the door handle and pulled it open. April led the mutants up the rickety staircase and down the hall until she reached the last door. She paused there, looked back at Splinter, and smiled grimly. Splinter took a place just to the side of the door, somewhat in the shadows, and indicated for Raphael to do likewise. Once they were in position, Splinter nodded to April, who knocked on the door. A few seconds later, a voice spoke through the door. "Yes?" it said, somewhat uncertainly.

"Mrs Jackson?" said April. "It's April O'Neil."

There was another slight pause. "And you brought..."

"The two mutants? Yes, they're here."

Once more, there was a pause, and then the sound of locks being drawn back. Finally, the door opened, and Wanda Jackson peered out into the hallway. Raphael was somewhat surprised. She looked older, more run down, than she had seemed on TV.

April decided to take the initiative. "Mrs Jackson? I'm April O'Neil."

Mrs Jackson nodded, then asked, "Where are the...?"

"Right here." April moved to the side, and Splinter and Raphael stepped into the light. "This is Hamato Yoshi and Raphael." Splinter bowed when his name was said, and Raphael decided to follow suit.

Mrs Jackson simply frowned. After looking them up and down for a bit, she sighed. "Well, you may as well come in."

She opened the door a bit wider, and headed back inside. April pushed the door further open, and held it open for the others. Raphael looked around as he entered the apartment. He hadn't been in too many human residences, and this one easily appeared to be the worst. The front door led straight into the living room, with a smallish kitchen off to the side. The furniture and appliances were about as old and patchwork as what the turtles had in the lair, and although the place was fairly neat, it looked quite run down.

Mrs Jackson wearily sat down at a small table just outside the kitchen area - presumably the dining area. She looked at Splinter, and then at Raphael, waiting for one of them to begin.

Raphael looked at Mrs Jackson, about to launch into his rehearsed speech. But something about her made him pause. Her face wasn't unattractive, but it was haggard, as if she hadn't slept in several days. And Raphael detected an overwhelming sadness about her. Well, that wasn't surprising, thought Raphael. She just lost her only kid. And she didn't appear to have a husband around, either. Raphael pictured this woman, living with her daughter, probably struggling to make ends meet - them against the world, just like his family. But now she didn't even have LaShawn.

Suddenly, Raphael was aware of everyone staring at him. He swallowed, and looked back at Mrs Jackson. He thought back to his rehearsed speech, but he decided that he couldn't say it. Not to her, not now. She had just lost her only child - the last thing she needed was some mutant complaining that someone thought he had done it. Raphael was only vaguely aware of the tears welling up in his eyes as he finally spoke.

"Mrs Jackson, I'm so sorry."

Ms Jackson looked confused - this wasn't what she was expecting to hear.

Raphael looked at the floor and forced himself to go on. "I...I heard that someone spotted a mutant near your daughter. That was probably me. I talked to her a couple times, out on the fire escape." He felt the tears starting to fall again, but ignored them. "I...I only met LaShawn three times. And...I didn't talk to her all that much. But...she was..." Raphael looked up. "Mrs Jackson, I don't like people much. I don't get along all that good with anyone, even my brothers. But your daughter was really cool. I liked her. And when I heard that she'd been...shot, I..." Raphael closed his eyes and shook his head. "I couldn't believe it. It really broke me up. And if I felt like that after only talking to her three times, I...I really can't imagine what it's like for you. I'm so sorry."

Mrs Jackson, seeing Raphael cry, couldn't help but do the same. She closed her eyes and nodded. Then, wiping her eyes, she said, "My baby was something special."

"Yeah, she was."

"This woman here said it couldn't have been..."

"Me? No," said Raphael, gently but firmly. "No way. First off, like I said, I liked LaShawn. I wouldn't do anything to hurt her. Second, well, look." Raphael held out his hands, palms up. "My fingers are real big. I don't even think I could get my finger onto the trigger of a gun. Plus, I haven't been in this part of town since Monday."

Mrs Jackson stared at his hands, lost in thought. Finally, she said, "How'd you meet LaShawn?"

"I was finishing up patrol a couple weeks ago..."

"Patrol?" Mrs Jackson echoed.

"Uh, yeah." Raphael looked over at Splinter, who nodded. Apparently, it was OK to trust this woman. "See, my brothers and me...and Splinter here...we're trying to take down the Foot clan. So most nights, we go out on patrol looking to bust up their operations."

"The Foot? That's that gang, isn't it?"

"Yeah. Well, I don't know if I'd really call them a 'gang', but yeah. We're sort of...committed to shutting them down."

Mrs Jackson nodded. "Well, good for you, then."

Raphael smiled a bit before he went on. "LaShawn was out on the fire escape, crying. I just wanted to make sure she was OK. We talked a bit. From then on, whenever I was back in this area, I'd swing by and chat with her."

"You don't know who coulda done this?"

Raphael shook his head. "No. No clue. I don't know anyone in a gang."

"You never saw anyone in the alleyway?" asked April.

Scratching his head, he said, "N-no, not really. There was this purse-snatcher I caught a couple weeks ago out in the alley, but I don't think he had a gun on him." Raphael sighed. "I'm sorry. I wish I knew."

Sadly, Mrs Jackson nodded. "That's OK." She got to her feet slowly and looked at Raphael for a bit. "I'll tell you something, Raphael," she said, saying his name carefully. "I sorta knew LaShawn was having problems at school. She didn't like talking about it, and I've been so busy with work, I guess I never really had a chance to talk to her about it. I guess I didn't know it was botherin' her that bad. But she seemed kinda...better these last few days. I didn't really think about it, but looking back, she was happier. And I'm bettin' it's because of you." She stepped forward, and held out her hands. Hesitantly, and very surprised, Raphael stepped forward and took her hands. "Thanks for talkin' to my baby," Mrs Jackson said quietly.

Raphael pulled her a bit closer and hugged her. Once he stepped away, he realized he had started tearing up again. "I'm sorry," he said, wiping his eyes. "If there's anything me or any of us can do, please tell us, K?"

"I will. Thank you, Raphael."

Splinter decided that it would be best to conclude the visit. "Mrs Jackson," he said, "I thank you for allowing us to speak with you."

Mrs Jackson nodded. "Thank _you_ for coming." She showed them to the door. "If you think of anything that might help the police...?"

"Yeah, we'll let them know," said Raphael for the group. "Thanks again, Mrs Jackson."

Mrs Jackson permitted herself a small smile. "Good luck with that other gang."


	4. Fourth

Raphael sat in formal style, facing Splinter's futon, outwardly calm but wondering whether he was in major trouble for something. That was usually the case when Splinter called him into his room.

Splinter slowly opened a box of matches and lit the candles on the table to his side. Turning back to his son, he finally spoke. "Raphael." Raphael bowed, then looked up expectantly, and Splinter continued. "First of all, I wish to tell you how proud I am of you, my son."

Raphael was rather stunned to hear this. "Really?"

"Yes. When we left to talk to Mrs Jackson, it did not appear to me that you understood the situation very well. While it is true that you appeared to be unjustly accused, I felt that this was rather insignificant in the grand picture. "

Pressing his lips together, Raphael nodded. "Yeah, well, when I saw the look on Mrs Jackson's face, I just thought...jeez, this woman just lost her only kid..."

"Precisely. That was the grand picture."

"Well, why didn't you just tell me that?"

Splinter paused. "I considered doing so. But I did not believe that you would fully grasp the meaning. I felt that you would think I was minimizing your problem. I thought that perhaps it would be best if you discovered this on your own."

It was Raphael's turn to reflect. "Well, what if I didn't see it? What if I just...tore into her?"

Smiling slightly, Splinter said, "This is why I went along. In the event that you did not see." Bowing, Splinter added, "I am most proud that you did. Your words to Mrs Jackson were heartfelt and well-chosen." Raphael ducked his head, somewhat embarrassedly, and Splinter decided to move on. "Now, my son, I wish to talk with you."

Raphael was a bit disheartened. He hoped he was going to escape with just the accolades. "What about?"

"I believe that, in the war books that you enjoy reading, they call this a 'debriefing'. I feel it is important that we talk about what has occurred, and how it might affect you."

"Um, OK," said Raphael, uncertainly.

"Let us construct a possible scenario. Let us say that, tomorrow night, you encounter a situation much like you did before. A young girl, alone, crying on a fire escape. One who does not appear to be in any direct danger. What would you do?"

Raphael smirked a bit before muttering, "Run the other way."

Splinter's eyebrows went up. "Indeed?"

Growing serious, Raphael said, "Well, no. I wouldn't run, but I wouldn't talk with her."

"Why not?"

"Because...well, because. I don't want to go through all this crap again. Burned once, y'know." Splinter sat silently, staring at Raphael, until Raphael started thinking he had given the wrong answer. "What?"

Splinter remained quiet for a bit longer, then said, "So you feel it has not been worth it?"

"What hasn't been worth it?"

"Your...brief friendship with LaShawn," explained Splinter. "You feel the pain of losing her was too great?"

Raphael didn't really want to think about this. "C'mon, sensei, you saw me when I found out."

"So you wish that you had never met her?"

"What?"

"If it were in your power, would you make it so you had never met LaShawn, in order to avoid the pain you feel when she died?" Raphael paused in thought, and Splinter continued the train of thought. "If April were to die today, would you wish you had never met her? Or Mondo? Or myself?"

Raphael closed his eyes and firmly shook his head. "No, of course not."

Splinter put his hand on Raphael's knee. "I do not mean to cause you distress, my son. I simply wish you to see the situation clearly. Yes, losing LaShawn was very painful. But it was painful specifically because she meant something to you. Because she was a positive influence in your life. Do you understand?"

Raphael nodded, crossing his arms and putting his hands on his shoulders. "Yeah, I guess." He looked up at Splinter. "But Sensei, why? Why does it hurt so much?"

Splinter sighed before answering. "You must remember, my son, that life is ephemeral. All living things will die. And in this case, she died very young. The pain is perhaps more acute because there is a sense of incompleteness - your relationship with her had just begun when it ended."

Biting his lip, Raphael nodded. He didn't trust himself not to cry again.

Splinter went on. "However, I would ask that you turn this tragedy into a positive experience."

"Positive!" Raphael blurted out. "How can anything positive come out of a kid getting murdered?"

"Not necessarily from the murder, but from your relationship with LaShawn. She somehow managed to get you to open up to her, something you do not do often. I hope that you will not let her death also signal the end of your openness."

"So now you want me to go around talking to people?" Raphael asked, somewhat bitterly. "I thought we were supposed to be ninjas - art of invisibility and all that."

"Indeed, you are correct, my son. When it comes to fighting the Foot, the less you are seen, the better."

Splinter paused, and Raphael egged him on. "Yeah, so?"

"However, it would appear that some - not all - of my fears may have been misplaced."

"What fears?"

"My fears of human interaction. When we first mutated, it was my understanding that we must limit our interaction with humans as much as possible. But as time passes, we are ever expanding our relationships. And many of the relationships have proven most helpful."

"So now you're saying all bets are off?"

Splinter smiled a bit. "No, my son. We most likely should continue to err on the side of caution. But I no longer believe absolute avoidance is essential. There are times when talking to people is beneficial. I believe Donatello, and Michelangelo especially, have a good grasp on this. I hope you and Leonardo will learn this lesson as well, from their example."

Raphael frowned a bit. "Well, I dunno. It's...well, it's a lot easier to just...not talk to everybody...than it is to figure out who I'm s'posed to talk to, y'know?"

"Understood. As I said, you should err on the side of caution. But do not feel you must not talk to someone simply because they are human, or because you are afraid of any pain that might ensue." Raphael nodded, and Splinter smiled. "Thank you for listening to me, my son. We may rejoin the others if you wish."

"Sure, OK."

Splinter blew out the candles next to him as Raphael started to stand up. Suddenly, Raphael paused, with a worried look on his face.

Concerned, Splinter asked, "What is it, my son?"

"Nothing."

"Surely it is not nothing. What is it that troubles you?"

Raphael sat down and vaguely moved his hand in a circle. "Just, um, something you said. Earlier."

"Yes?"

"You asked me how I'd feel if, y'know, you died?"

"Yes?" said Splinter again.

Raphael looked down and mumbled, "Well, if you do die, um, what's gonna happen to us?"

Splinter smiled sadly. "My son, this is an unfortunate possibility that every parent must confront, and I would truly be amiss had I not considered it. I have spoken to Mitake. If anything should happen to me, you will make your home with him."

"Really? Isn't his place kinda...small?"

"It would perhaps not be an ideal situation. But I believe it would be more likely than convincing him to live down here."

Raphael smiled a bit, in spite of himself. "Yeah, I guess."

Splinter stood up and smiled again. "Do not worry yourself needlessly, my son. It is always wise to plan for any possibility, but I do not anticipate leaving this world any time soon." Splinter opened his arms, and Raphael - somewhat self-consciously - walked in and accepted the hug. He always felt awkward doing this, but deep down, he felt somewhat by his sensei's presence. Stepping out from the hug, Raphael made sure his eyes were dry, squared his shoulders, and headed out to face his brothers.


End file.
